Beate Sigriddaugher

I saw the perfect maple leaf
one day, spread in the sun.
I walked three paces, then
I turned to pick it up.
The wind had claimed it away.

Love, too, comes like a leaf,
a sunrise, or a rose. You cannot
say: Not now. Even a fox
would laugh if you tried
to schedule its trajectory.

All true lovers know this.
If necessary you steal time.
Love does not wait. Here
is my flame. Accept it while
it burns before it fades
away like a neglected muse.

There are other worthwhile things,
of course, friendship, commitment,
duty, but my love is fragile
like a rose, and also steadfast
like the sun, and matchless
like a maple leaf.

Let us not save each other
for special occasions.